Kaleidescope Eyes
by theatricalice
Summary: Something terrible has happened to him, but Molly still refuses to fall under his spell again. Eventual Max/Jude and other pairings too.
1. Away So Long

**A/N: Hello. I've recently become obsessed with Across the Universe (And Jim Sturgess...heh heh...) so I thought I'd try an actual planned chapterish fanfiction. :)**

**I've got two other chapters ready to post so let me know if you want to read on.**

**And since watching the film again, I realised that I like my developed Molly in my head more than the one in the film. **

**Constructive criticism is very much appreciated.**

Molly is ready to drop. The house is a pigsty, the kitchen smells of something very unpleasant, and baby Teddy is screaming fit to bust in his makeshift cot.

Molly Flynn never dreamed that her life would turn out like this. Just over a year ago, she was dancing drunkenly in the Cavern club, clutching onto her previous love, Jude Feeney. Now she is twenty two years old with a child whose possible fathers are either somewhere in America or not worth the ground they walk on.

She rolls her eyes and scoops the wailing infant into her arms, soothing and rocking him gently until he gradually drifts back into a light slumber. Molly sighs with relief, and collapses onto the moth eaten sofa. It is unusually quiet, for a small, yet densely populated street in central Liverpool. All Molly can hear is a gentle wind blowing through the holes in the curtains and the distant rumble of heavy traffic . Basking in this new found tranquillity, she is severely annoyed when someone begins thumping aggressively on the door. Instinctively, Molly shoots a worried glance at the baby, hoping she will not have to spend hours reassuring him again. Teddy opens bleary eyes and his mouth trembles slightly. Molly freezes, mentally pleading to anyone who will listen. Thankfully, the infant rolls over and begins to breath softly.

The heavy banging continues, occasionally punctuated with confused sounding shouts. Cautiously, she snatches up a breadknife from the table and slowly turns the handle.

Something....some_one_ bursts into the room, dishevelled, dirty, and smelling of whisky and mud.

Molly recoils in horror, until the person looks up, tangled hair straggling in his face, and familiar brown eyes spilling over with salty tears.

"_Jude?_"


	2. Falling

**Thanks for the reviews. : )**

**I've got some of chapter three written and a lot more planned.**

**I would adore some constructive criticism on this, especially towards the end, but any reviews are welcome. And I promise I'll get to what happened to Jude in the next chapter.**

**Enjoy!**

"Hi Mol," he says weakly, and falls forward into her arms.

Molly stares down at him in utter disbelief, recoiling slightly at the smell.

She puts an arm around him and props him back onto his feet.

"Jude...I don't know what you're doing here, but you can't..."

But she trails off as he looks back at her with desperation.

"Please Molly love," Jude says, his smile not quite reaching his eyes, "I've got no-one else."

She opens her mouth to retort but as she looks back into his eyes, which plead with her in desperation, Molly can feel herself falling for his old charm again.

"Sit down," she says; sighing once more, "I'll make you some tea."

It seems like no time has passed since Jude sang, intoxicated, to her in the alley after that night at the Cavern. As usual, he is slumped at the table, sipping tea and complaining bitterly about his inevitable hangover.

"Well y'shouldn't have bloody drank so much then!" she exclaims, shaking her head. "It's _completely_ your own fault!"

Jude grins handsomely. "I've missed you Moll. You and your anger p-problems."

Molly stares back into his eyes gormlessly, remembering how big and brown they are and how they turn her to jelly. But the loving reply on the tip of her tongue is diminished when she characteristically brings herself back to reality.

Her ex-boyfriend, who ignored her letters for some American; who was possibly the least faithful person in the world, and who also happened to be the most charming boy in Liverpool, was slumped at her kitchen table, drunk as hell. Yet however charming and good looking he may be, once more, Molly will be taken for granted. And she will not stand for it.

"Jude, what the hell are you doin' here?"

He sits up slightly straighter and his grin slides off his face.

"B-bad things, love." He slurs, "Lucy...she..."

Molly winces at the mention of "The reason he stopped writing."

"Lucy?" she asks softly, "What happened to her, Judey?"

"Judey?" he whispers, "M-max, Max....he's....he's..."

He trails off, and falls back onto his front, sobbing.

Forgetting every previous promise she made to herself not to let him use her, or, more importantly, to fall under Jude's spell, Molly jumps up and wraps her arms around him, stroking his hair and murmuring comforting words into his shoulder. After a moment, Jude returns the hug awkwardly but gratefully, planting a kiss on her forehead.

They break apart, and an uncomfortable silence follows.

"Jude, you should get some sleep, it'll make you feel better."

He is curled up on the sofa like a baby. Molly drapes a huge woollen blanket over him.

"Get some sleep, alright?"

He nods gently, reaches up and pulls her into his arms once more.

"Thanks. Y-you're still my Molly, y'know."

Molly smiles, her head spinning and feeling a familiar fluttering that only Jude Feeney could be responsible for.


	3. I've Told You Before

**A/N: I'm quite excited, there's a large amount of plot I have planned. Enjoy!**

She sits uncomfortably on the shabby orange chair. The silence was getting louder with every tick of the clock. The receptionist looks at the girl in the chair, rolls her eyes, and goes back to the monotony of the paperwork on the desk.

He sits tensely on the edge of the bed, watching her sleep. Worry is etched into his face, as he plays a gentle lullaby on his ropey old guitar. A slight dark haired girl walks into the room.

"I'm worried about her," he murmurs.

He cannot read the strange expression on the girl's face.

"There's something bad going on that she's not telling me," he continues.

The girl's eyes widen and dart down to the floor, her cheeks flush, and she mutters something unintelligible before bolting from the room.

* * *

Somewhere else entirely, Molly rolls over in her nest of pillows (she always found beds to be quite restricting) hits the cold wooden floor, and awakens with a shock.

The slow realisation that either she has had an extremely vivid dream or that Jude Feeney is sprawled on her couch, most probably hung-over, (and lying next to his possible son, she recalls in horror) hits her like the previous coldness of the floor.

Molly doesn't want to take any chances either way, so she hurriedly brushes her teeth and throws on a dressing gown. Glancing hurriedly in the mirror, she hopes she looks semi-presentable.

She tentatively creeps down the stairs. Her heart leaps in a mixture of happiness and dread when she sees Jude slumped on the couch, his face buried in his hands.

The stair creaks loudly as Molly steps on it, and Jude jolts out of his apparent stupor.

He stares at her in befuddled disbelief.

"Molly?" he asks groggily, rubbing bleary eyes, "...I forgot for a moment..."

"So did I."

She didn't intend to sound so cold, or to cause the awkward silence that follows. Still, the fact remains that she has responsibilities, and cannot put her life on hold for one devastatingly handsome man.

_Stop thinking like that._

Molly crosses the room and checks on the sleeping infant, whose existence she had momentarily forgotten. Slipping into routine, she prepares the baby food almost on autopilot. Eventually she turns round, and starts as she sees the look of horror on Jude's face, which had previously gone unnoticed.

"What the hell's the matter?"

Jude is goggling at Teddy like the child is some kind of demon spawn.

"His eyes are brown...really brown. He's....not mine...is he?" There is a fearful tremble in his voice.

_Shit. _

"Oh...don't worry, no! Not at all!"

Jude raises an eyebrow suggestively. Molly curses inwardly. She forgot about his dirty mind.

"No! I didn't...sleep around or nothing!"

"Phil Sculley then?" he says with distaste.

Molly nods quickly, slightly ashamed.

"He's decent though. Well....he _was_. Kicked him out after the third _bit on the side_."

Jude snorts, attempting to contain his chuckles. After a moment, and despite her pride, Molly begins to giggle too. It _is_ quite ridiculous really, the idea that_ Phil Sculley_, possibly the least suave man on the planet, could have even one "bit on the side."

Their laughter eventually dies down; Jude still sporting a devilish grin.

"Jude, I..." she starts, as Jude simultaneously blurts out "Molly love..."

She laughs, embarrassed.

"You first," she says.

"I just wanted to say thanks, really," Jude says simply, "For letting me stay. Anyone else would have chucked me out, but not you."

The harsh statement questioning the length of his stay dies on her lips. Her heart softens.

"Let's go for a walk, I need to buy stuff."

* * *

It has been forty five minutes, and Jude and Molly have been stopped by a total of nine relatives and friends for a 'nice little chat'. Various awkward questions have made their current situation more obviously difficult, mainly the infamous, 'So, are you two back together then?'

Molly heaves a sigh of relief when she slumps down onto the smelly, yet soft bus seat, dumping the shopping bags which have been cutting into her hand. Jude has not spoken for the past ten minutes, and Molly feels she cannot stand the tense silence any longer.

"Jude? Y'alright?"

He shakes his head slowly. She raises an eyebrow quizzically.

"I don't know what's going to happen, love. I don't know what happened to Max, why Lucy's angry with me, how JoJo can be so blind."

He sniffs, his voice growing louder as he continues speaking, painfully slowly.

"What's wrong with Max, Jude? What made Lucy angry?"

Molly keeps her voice soft and patient, not wanting to provoke him back into refusing to talk to her.

Jude shakes his head quickly. She opens her mouth to protest but he puts an arm round her.

Any other day, Molly would have been perfectly content with this situation, but she knows that it's to shut her up and nothing more. Her well repressed anger and curiosity reach its limit and she wrenches Jude's arm from around her shoulder as the bus grinds to a halt on Smithdown Road.

She yanks him up by the sleeve and practically drags him off the bus; a forced polite nod to the confused driver as she goes.

Molly says nothing, but Jude can see her lips are thinned with rage. and her shoes thump angrily on the stone floor as she continues to pull him towards her house.

"Molly?"

She shakes her head furiously, beckons him into the kitchen and slams the door savagely behind her.

Jude looks down at her. She glares furiously back at him, breaking the eye contact with a turn on her heel. He sits at the table tentatively as Molly angrily prepares their tea, the beans into a pan, noisily retrieving plates out of the cupboard.

Jude knows well enough that Molly will not utter a single word until he does something further to annoy her, and then the rage bubbling inside her will completely erupt. And, as usual, he will be on the receiving end.

When a plate of beans on toast is banged in front of him, he attempts to break the ice.

"I can see your culinary skills have become more sophisticated."

However, when her frosty blue eyes widen dangerously, and the ketchup bottle she is clutching slowly begins to overflow, Jude can see he has said the wrong thing.

"Well, go ask Lucy to do it then!" she snaps at him.

"Love, I..." he begins gently.

"No, Jude. Don't you 'love' me. You are going to sit there, and you are going to tell me why you are here, what has happened, and what you plan to do about it."

His face contorts into a grimace.

"Molly, I don't think I'm ready to.."

"READY?!" she bellows, surprisingly loud for her small frame, "I HAVE TAKEN YOU IN TO MY HOUSE, DESPITE MY MOTHER'S PROTESTS, HAVE ALMOST IGNORED MY ONLY CHILD, TURNED MY BLOODY LIFE UPSIDE DOWN, AND YOU SAY YOU'RE NOT READY?!"

"Listen, I..."

"NO, JUDE FEENEY, YOU LISTEN. SINCE MY EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY, YOU HAVE EXPECTED ME TO CATER TO YOUR EVERY WHIM. I REFUSE TO TAKE CARE OF YOU ANY LONGER. I HAVE MY OWN LIFE! JUST BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN HOPELESSLY IN LOVE WITH YOU, DOES NOT MEAN I AM BLIND TO THE SHIT YOU GET UP TO! I COULD HAVE TOLD YOU NOT TO LET THE DOOR HIT YOU ON THE WAY OUT, BUT NO, I LET YOU STAY ON MY FUCKING COUCH!"

Every bitter and resentful thought that has been bothering Molly since Jude arrived comes erupting out of her, like she is some kind of volcano with anger management problems.

Jude stands there, stunned, his mouth hanging open gormlessly.

"THEN, YOU STRUT BACK FROM AMERICA HAVING LEFT ME FOR SOME RANDOM BLONDE WHO YOU DIDN'T BOTHER TELLING ME ABOUT! IF THERE'S SOMEONE WHO ISN'T READY JUDE, IT'S GOING TO BE ME!"

There is a loud silence, punctured only by Molly's heavy breathing.

Jude lets out a low whistle.

"Sorry, Mol," he says sincerely.

"It...it's fine. Really." She touches her cheeks, to find that they are wet from angry tears. Jude leans forward and wipes them away with his baggy sleeve.

This simple touch of affection makes Molly's heart flutter softly and for once, she doesn't condemn it.

Jude sighs.

"I suppose you deserve to hear this, really. But it's a pretty long story.

Molly looks around at her disgustingly messy house, the content baby babbling to himself in his crib (oblivious to the stench of his soiled nappy) and the pile of steadily growing bills on the counter top.

"Go for it Jude, I've got time."

**Sorry for the cliff hanger, but I will post the next chapter very very soon.**

**All my chapters could benefit from concrit, or any reviews whatsoever.**

**Even bad reviews! Always nice to hear from people who hate this story!**


	4. Out Of Tune

**A/N: Thank you SO much for reviewing, guys. It makes me ridiculously happy to hear that people like what I'm writing.**

**I don't know how exactly to transition from Jude in the kitchen to Jude telling the story, so just bear with me, okay? :D**

After a brief explanation of what has happened since Jude's letters have slowly dwindled to nothing, Jude takes a deep breath.

"I suppose I should start, really, after Sadie's rooftop concert."

* * *

_The brief burst of celebration after Sadie's concert was over. They returned to normal, or whatever they classed as normal since Jude and Max had left and returned._

_Jude; his inspiration lost completely. His attempts to draw Lucy, once his favourite subject, always turned into a dull, lifeless outline with vacant eyes. He would emerge from drawing with his hair sticking up in tufts where he had clutched at it in frustration, his face and hands covered in black smudges, the only product of which was a few crumpled up sheets of discarded drawings._

_Lucy wasn't Lucy since the 'man with the megaphone' she once looked up to, had been killed as a result of his own dedication. The once fiercely independent and opinionated girl became clingy and paranoid. She seemed to need the constant security of both Max and Jude, and would constantly badger Jude, questioning whether he would leave her or not. _

"_No, no, of course not," he would soothe, "I love you Lucy."_

_And yet, whenever he uttered these words defiantly, something deep inside him would twinge. When Jude was being honest with himself, (which, admittedly, wasn't very often) he would admit that, although he was almost definite that he was in love with her, something would stop him. A tiny, almost unnoticed little voice somewhere in his conscience would mutter, "No you don't."_

_But he pushed this to the back of his mind, blaming it on drink, the confusion of everything that had happened. He was being ridiculous; of course he loved Lucy. There was nothing that you couldn't love about her._

_Anyway, he had more important things to worry about. Like Max._

_The old Max was back. Not the happy-go-lucky, charmingly perverse Max before Vietnam, but the haunted, daunted, empty shell of Jude's best friend. Countless attempts to bring him back had failed. Jojo would take his guitar and Sadie would sing old funny tunes that they threw together when drunk. Prudence would offer a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on. And Lucy would do nothing but beg and plead with her brother to come back, or at least to smile. She would return from his room and throw herself into Jude's arms, sobbing hysterically and angrily at him._

_For Jude would not try to do what the others were so desperately attempting. He couldn't see Max. He couldn't bear to go into Max's suffocating refuge of a room, couldn't stand to attempt to force conversation with the guy who, six months previously, had staggered drunkenly down an empty street with him at two in the morning belting out songs about submarines._

"_He's still the same Max!" Lucy would urge, "You'll be able to bring him back, if you'd just try!"_

_But Jude couldn't. He refused to associate with the affected, war torn monster that had stolen his best friend away. _

_So Max stayed sitting on his bed, empty, numb and expressionless, and Jude stayed sitting at the table, scribbling meaningless charcoal swirls._

* * *

Molly stares at him; her face a mixture of incredulousness and despair.

"Why, though? You'd have probably been able to cheer him up, just like that!"

Jude shakes his head.

"You didn't see him, Moll. He wasn't depressed, or even empty. I caught a glimpse of him when he first got back, love. He was...._desolate_."

* * *

_Though the apartment was filled with a dark sense of depression, he realised that not everyone's current life revolved around Max, which came to light when Jojo seemed to need Jude. _

_He was almost stunned. Not only because Jojo was the last person he would expect to actively seek advice, but that he had chosen to come to the doodling, scruffy English boy as opposed to...well...someone a lot more sturdy._

_One seemingly nondescript afternoon, Jojo collapsed at the table, which was dripping with charcoal and cigarettes, in front of Jude. _

"_Sadie," he gasped._

_Jude's face twisted quizzically._

"_I don't know, man," Jojo said, "But....there's something....bad."_

"_Bad?"_

"_I catch her off guard, a hell of a lot. She looks confused, worried...guilty even."_

"_Keep talking mate, "Jude said, picking up a stick of charcoal, "I'm listening."_

_This would soon become a regular occurrence; Jude would sketch whatever was in front of him, and Jojo would pour out what was bothering him, which never failed to be about Sadie._

_Anyone who knew Jojo well enough would not believe that he would benefit from letting out his worries, but as Jude came to learn, everyone was worried about something._

* * *

The timer on Molly's oven rings through the air, bringing Jude back from New York.

He glances at the clock on the wall.

"Maybe we should go to sleep."

Molly nods.

"Listen Jude, I was thinking...." Molly hesitates, "Look, stay as long as you like."

Jude smiles, relieved and grateful.

"Have you brought any things with you?"

He sighs, and digs his hands into his pockets. Removing his hands, he pulls out nothing but scraps of paper. Jude bites his lip.

"J-just drawings, love. And maybe about ten quid."

Molly rolls her eyes good naturedly. Typical.

"Go upstairs and grab a few blankets from my room."

He does so, and she can hear the stack of pillows and quilts topple over. Obviously Jude has not retained enough sense to choose from the top of the pile.

She sees a crumpled white ball that has fallen out of his jacket. Overcome by curiosity, Molly unfurls it and her heart jolts at what is messily sketched out in front of her.

A girl with short dark hair and wide eyes, staring into space.

She turns the paper over. A heavily detailed drawing of a scruffy looking man with a cheeky grin, his eyes crinkled up. It has been lightly coloured with watered down paint; sandy blonde hair and electric blue eyes.

Molly compares this to the wispy, probably half-hearted, scribble of herself. But if she tries, she can pretend Jude has drawn her, and only her. And that as much love went into her portrait as the beautiful one of this unknown person. This unknown person that Jude seems to care so deeply about.

She smoothes out the paper and studies it some more. She can't help smiling as she tucks it behind a photo of two grinning teenagers outside the Cavern club.

**Reviews make me happy. :D They don't even have to make sense!**


End file.
